


Have a Cuppa Tea

by colazitron



Series: Fic Advent 2012 [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-26 09:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis passes this busker every day on his way to work. One cold day he decides it'd be a good idea to get him some tea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have a Cuppa Tea

Louis Tomlinson isn't exactly the biggest fan of his job. Then again, who is, really? It's certainly not bad and he doesn't want to complain about it, but it's just so completely not what he wants to do, it's actually a bit laughable. The worst thing is definitely that it's his own fault though. His mum had only ever been supportive and told him to chase his dreams and believe in himself and that good things happen to good people and that Louis was definitely good people. It's not that Louis doesn't believe her. Good things do happen to good people. Good things happen to bad people too. Bad things happen to bad people but they happen to good people too. Really, things just happen to people. Being good isn't a guarantee that only good things would happen to you otherwise he's pretty certain there wouldn't be any, or at least far fewer, bad people because wouldn't that be the best incentive ever?

Louis's seen his dad cheat on his mum and he's had to come to terms with the fact that his parents just fell out of love. That's probably the bigger tragedy.

One of his darling little sisters had been biking around the park with a friend and they'd had a crash. Nothing too bad had happened, but her foot had been injured and she'll always have a slightly weak ankle. No more ballerina dreams for her. It's okay, because she wants to be a graphic novelist now, but still. Dreams are just that: dreams.

Sometimes Louis still thinks he should've at least tried for his (acting - he'd always wanted to be an actor), but somehow he'd gotten into the field he's in now and while the work isn't the most inspiring, it pays the bills and Louis still gets to work with people, which is one of his favourite things to do. He couldn't slave away in an office all day, but he can stand behind a reception desk and check guests in and out of their rooms, coordinate bookings and play guidebook for people looking for information on London. He likes it even, some days. Most days he's just too aware that he's _settling_ and he's never liked that thought. He doesn't settle anywhere else in his life. He doesn't date people who don't make his heart beat faster. If the supermarket's out of his preferred brand of chocolate, he'd rather not have any than a lesser one. If he goes out to eat he'll have whatever he damn well pleases and not the cheapest item on the menu. Louis loves life and loves what it can offer him and he intends to grab it with both hands.

Except, it seems, for when it really counts. He's 23. He shouldn't be this pathetic, but he can't seem to get himself together.

This particular day is a day in late November. The days are definitely getting colder now, London gearing up for winter. Louis likes winter, all in all. Especially the weeks leading up to Christmas. There are lights everywhere and no matter how grouchy people get about the commercialisation of Christmas and such, there is always a lovely cheerfulness in the air. Carollers on some street corners and the occasional roasted chestnuts at winter fairs. It's quite charming. Plus, it just so happens that it's his birthday on Christmas Eve and he's allowed to be excited for that, even if he turns 24. What makes this day stand out from the others before it is that 1) he forgot his headphones so he can't listen to music as he usually does and 2) on his daily trek to the tube station before work, he passes a young busker. Now, that in and of itself isn't exactly the most unusual of things. It's more that there's a bit of a gaggle of people that force Louis to stop right next to him and he's forced to listen to him sing a few bars before he can move on and, well, what can Louis say - this boy's actually quite good. He's got a lovely, deep voice with just enough huskiness to it to get attention but not sound like he chain-smokes and Louis's well aware that a pretty boy with a pretty guitar is just a universally attractive thing. Still, he's in a rush to get to work, actually, cutting it fine this morning and he only catches two lines - _Darling, how I miss you; strawberries taste how lips do_ \- before he sighs heavily and pushes his way through the crowd. By the time the train doors stop, he can only remember the first half and by the time he's at his desk, it's only the way his voice had curled around "darling".

\---

He's there the next day too and this time Louis's not as rushed, so he slows down and listens as he walks by, trying not to look like he's listening.

_Sweet and high at the break of dawn, simple tune that you can hum along too. I remember there was a time when I used to sing for you._

\---

By the third day Louis wonders if the boy recognises the people passing him every day. He knows he sees a few of the same faces on the tube most days. Sure, they don't always get on the same carriage as him, but there every now and then he'll see that woman with the obnoxiously pink brief case. Louis likes to think that it's her way of saying "fuck you" to whatever company she works for. There's also that sweaty, beer-bellied half bald guy that sort of looks like the social worker from The Girls With The Dragon Tattoo and every morning Louis sees him again he feels a little queasy for a few minutes. He really hopes he's the only one who has that reaction to his face cause it's not like it's the guy's fault he has a lookalike who played an asshole in a movie. He wonders sometimes if those people recognise him as well. If they think of him as "that kid with the ill-fitted suit" or something similar. He wonders if the busker's noticed him. Probably not.

_I know all we're doing is travelling - without moving._

Louis knows the song this time and although he's never heard it like that - a boy with a raspy voice and a guitar singing it on some street corner - it gets stuck in his head for a few hours.

\---

The busker's there the day after that and the day after that and the day after that as well. Louis doesn't think anything of it when he's not there one day but the relief he feels at his return the next day, makes him feel a bit stupid and notice how much he's already come to expect the boy as part of his morning routine.

\---

About two weeks after he first saw him, the boy's not playing for the first time since Louis's been walking past him every morning. Instead he's blowing on his fingers and rubbing together, like he's trying to warm them up. It _is_ an especially cold day.

On a whim, Louis pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time. He's early, that morning and so he finds his feet leading him across the road and back a bit, where he knows there's a coffee shop. He orders two cups of tea, no sugar and even as he's paying he's wondering what the hell he's doing. Now that he's gone and paid for it though, so he might as well just go through with it, even if he's not entirely sure how he ended up here in the first place.

"Hi," he says, when he comes to stand in front of the boy, who's still not back to playing.

"Hi," the boy says back. Well, really, he might not be too much of a boy anymore. He looks young, ish, but then Louis's just generally terrible at guessing people's ages.

"Um, this is a bit creepy, I'm realising now, but you looked cold, so I got you tea," Louis says and holds out one of the take-away cups to him.

"Oh," the boy says and hesitate for a moment before wrapping his fingers around it. At least those'll be warm, even if he doesn't drink it, Louis thinks. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I walk past you every day on my way to work and - I don't really know what made me do this or why I'm telling you this. Wow, sorry."

"It's alright." He has a dimple in his left cheek. On top of the curly hair spilling out from under a beanie and the pretty eyes and pretty lips and broad shoulders that's really not fair.

"Anyway. I've got to. Go. To work. I promise I didn't poison that," he says, motioning towards the cup in the boy's hands.

"Alright," the boy says again and Louis nods in somewhat of a greeting and then just stalks off. _I promise I didn't poison that? Jesus, Louis, he wasn't that pretty._

\---

Louis's a bit late again the day after that. He rushes past the busker and doesn't intend to pay him much attention. It doesn't strike him as odd that he raises his voice a bit as Louis passes until his mind catches up with the lyrics.

_Tea in the morning, tea in the evening, tea at supper time. You get tea when it's raining, tea when it's snowing, tea when the weather's fine._

It startles a laugh out of Louis and he turns to look at the boy over his shoulder. He's grinning back.

\---

A few days pass like that, with short smiles exchanged while Louis passes the boy. He'd felt bad about never leaving him any money before, but he feels like it'd be awkward now. When he steps outside somewhere in the middle of December though - Louis's not particularly good with dates, okay? He's reasonably sure it's the 12th - and there's a wet mist hanging in the air, he takes a detour and gets another two cups of tea. As he steps back out onto the street, he suddenly realises that there's a very good possibility that the boy won't bother coming out in this weather and he might look like a complete idiot with two cups of tea. Well. Too late to change that now.

To Louis' pleasant surprise, the boy _is_ in his usual spot, just finishing up a rendition of _Jingle Bells_ , of all things. When Louis gets closer, he sees a young father with two little girls standing right in front of a little group of people who have gathered around him and he's clearly playing for them, bobbing around a bit, while they twirl under their father's arms. Louis stays back to watch him finish the song and waits for the crowd to disperse a bit before he steps up to him. The boy's eyes light up with recognition and he reaches for the tea just as Louis holds it out.

"Not poisoned?" he asks.

"No, this time it is," Louis answers and the boy barks a surprised laugh that Louis can't call anything but _delightful_.

"I'm Harry," the boy offers instead of commenting on Louis' words. Louis smiles back at him.

"Louis."

"Thank you for the tea, Louis," the boy - Harry says and Louis shrugs a little.

"It's alright. Shit weather today."

Harry laughs again and Louis has to smile a bit at himself. _The weather? Really?_

"It's not so bad."

"If you say so," Louis says and when a woman jostles him on her way past remembers that he kind of has somewhere to be. "I've got to..."

"See you around, Louis."

"Yeah, see you."

\---

The day after the weather's even worse and Louis's running late. He has no idea if Harry's gonna bother with actual snow fall, which, also, what the hell London? and he's running late, but he goes to fetch another two teas anyway. The barista is starting to smile at him in recognition now and Louis can't help thinking that this whole thing is getting a little out of control now.

Harry's singing and Louis's late, so he just weasels around the edge of the crowd and sets the tea down behind Harry. They nod and smile at each other and Louis leaves again, not caring how weird that must've looked. Harry's voice follows him.

_If we make it through December, everything's gonna be alright, I know._

\---

Harry's taking to singing more carols now. They attract bigger crowds and he is, after all, presumably, doing this with money at least in mind if not as his first and foremost goal. As a result Louis has _Driving Home For Christma_ s stuck in his head one day and _Santa, Baby_ , of all things, the next. Today, when he passes Harry, he's singing Wham. At this point Louis thinks maybe Harry's just trying to be ridiculous, but he's being so joyful and unashamed about the cheesy lyrics that the people watching him can't help but bop along or even join his singing, like a group of young women. He catches Louis' eye over the crowd nevertheless and throws _this year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special_ along with a wink at him. Louis blows him a kiss and four seconds later feels like a complete idiot for it.

\---

The next day it's _fancy ties and granny's pies and folks stealing a kiss or two as they whisper "Merry Christmas to you"_ with his eyes tracking Louis' movement. Louis's not imagining this, is he?

He can't get Harry out of his head that day and accidentally double books one of their conference rooms which is the biggest pain ever, because he has to call back and say there's been a mistake and offer a different date and calm disgruntled clients and. He's not so good at calming disgruntles people when they're over the age of ten. When Eleanor comes in for her shift to take over from him and she asks him to switch shifts that Friday maybe so that she can go out for coffee with a friend for her birthday he says yes immediately and pretends it's not because he sort of wants to maybe see if he can spend more time with Harry.

\---

He takes his time getting up the next day, enjoying a calm breakfast and getting to put on jeans and a t-shirt and jumper first thing in the morning instead of one of his suits. It's not that he dislikes suits entirely it's just that he doesn't like having to put them on in the morning. It makes him feel a bit out of place in his own life and that's not exactly a feeling he enjoys. He grabs his essentials and as he's walking his usual route, he finds a beanie tucked into his coat pocket and crams it on his head. It is a bit chilly out. He has absolutely no idea what he's going to say to Harry and tries to pretend that doesn't freak him out.

"No tea today?" Harry greets him and Louis smiles.

"And no suit?" he goes on, eyes flicking over Louis quickly. Louis shakes his head.

"Switched shifts with a colleague. I was actually wondering if you'd like to have that tea sitting down? Inside, preferably, where it's cosy and warm?"

_Huh. Easier than he'd thought._

"Are you asking me on a date, Louis?" Harry asks, a teasing smile pulling at this lips.

"Have you been singing flirty lines at me?" Louis asks back.

"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't."

"Well, maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

Harry laughs that delightful laugh of his again and Louis is a little in love with how easy it is to just throw banter back and forth with him. Oh, but he's moving on very thin ice here.

"Alright," says Harry. "Let's go have tea."

Louis waits for him to pack his guitar up before they make their way to the coffeeshop where Louis has been getting their tea for them. He wonders if anyone's gonna notice Harry's absence when they pass his usual spot and feels oddly triumphant for being the one responsible for it.

"Can I let you in on a secret?" Harry asks as they're sitting down with their steaming mugs. Louis looks up at him curiously and nods for him to go on.

"I hate tea without sugar," Harry says and Louis watches on in horror as he dumps two whole sugar packets into his perfectly good tea. Or, well, it _was_ perfectly good until a few moments ago.

"I think I just changed my mind about this," Louis says. Harry looks up at him from where he's stirring his tea, startled.

"Really?" he asks, seeming torn between being upset and not believing Louis.

"No," he laughs. "Even though that's cruel, what you just did. What did that poor beverage ever do to you?"

"It's a bitter old thing and a sweet young'un like me needs a bit of sugar to get it down," Harry says and Louis stares at him for the blink of an eye before laughing.

"You're quite something," he says. Harry only grins of him like he's not only aware of that but rather proud of it.

Their conversation comes easily and they end up switching from tea to lunch seamlessly. Harry waits tables in the evenings when he’s not busking because even aspiring musicians need food and shelter. He seems bashful when talking about how he wants to record albums and tour, but still determined. Louis’ own stage dream twinges in sympathy. By the end of it, Louis really wants to ask for Harry's phone number, but then he overlooks how late it is and forgets in his rush to get back to his flat to get changed. The next two days Harry's not at his usual spot and Louis tries very, very hard not to read into it.

\---

Harry's back three days before Christmas. Louis's late so he can't stop, but Harry suddenly switches chords and lifts his voice and throws a completely random _Baby's got blue eyes_ over the heads of the confused crowd, before resuming _Winter Wonderland_ with a charming smile. Louis pretends not to be inordinately pleased. His demented smile is probably why no one sits next to him on the tube. He doesn't care.

\---

"Listen," he says the next morning, finding Harry without a crowd. "Just in case you're not... what are you doing for Christmas?"

"Not much. My parents are on holiday and my sister's with her boyfriend. She's invited me, but I think she wants me to turn her down."

"Come spend it with me," Louis says.

"What?" Harry asks, chuckling a little like he can't believe Louis just suggested that.

"It's my birthday on the 24th so when I moved out I made a deal with my mum that I get to spend that day however I like as long as I come see her and my sisters on Christmas Day. I'd like to spend it with you," Louis says, heart racing. Why did this seem like a good idea again?

"Really?" Harry asks, like the idea is completely ludicrous.

"Yeah. I had a good time the other day. Did... you not?"

"No! It was lovely!"

"So, come on."

"Are you sure you'd not rather spend it with your mates?"

"They're busy," Louis says. "And even if they weren't, I'd invite you along."

Harry seems to think it over and then finally allows a smile to bloom on his face.

"Alright. At yours though, cause my heating's dodgy."

Louis laughs.

"Of course. Let's see if we can whip up a proper Christmas dinner between the two of us."

"I'll have you know I'm a pretty decent cook, actually," Harry says with a grin.

"Excellent. I'm rather good with wine," Louis says and pulls out his phone.

"Put in your number, so I can text you my address," he says and watches Harry do just that with a heap of giddy butterflies bubbling in his stomach.

"Now get out of here, you'll be late for work," Harry says when he hands the phone back. Louis just shrugs.

"Worth it."

It might be the cold, but Louis likes to think that Harry blushes a bit

\---

It is worth it. Especially when he manages to talk Harry into coming with him to Doncaster on Christmas Morning when they wake up collapsed on top of each other on Louis' far too comfy couch, their abandoned game of checkers in front of them. Louis introduces Harry as a friend, with an inflection to the word that obviously implies his hope for a change in that status. If Harry's smile is anything to go by, it's not a vain hope.

(It's not. But that's a New Year's story.)

**The End**


End file.
